


Concerning Ouroboros

by StaplerQueen (Bananaise_San)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Episode 14x14 Ouroboros, Gen, Hiding Illness, Mild Dissociation, Sam hugs, Self-Hatred, happy birthday Jack let's have a talk about you mental state, hurt with only some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:09:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaise_San/pseuds/StaplerQueen
Summary: Reflecting on Jack's mental state and nonsense "I'm fine" during ouroboro's.The scene in the bathroom upset me, and I need to talk about it.





	Concerning Ouroboros

**Author's Note:**

> Re-watching ouroboros gave me a lot of feelings, especially about how Jack's actions...

Weariness was always the first sign.

 

He was used to the routine by now.

 

Of keeping his face straight straight as his spirit fell and a soft wave of exhaustion made him want to drop whatever he was doing and just curl up under his bed.

 

Food turned to dust in mouth. Standing up after being knocked to the mat not worth the effort.

 

Whatever happened next was a toss-up.

 

Usually it was like the first time a fight to suppress violent coughing as his lungs started ripping themselves to shreds. At least… that’s what it felt like. Other times it was just pain from somewhere unknown. Dull or stabbing, throbbing or shooting.

 

But sometimes all it was was that deep heavy tiredness.

 

It came and it went. Those feelings. Days, sometimes a week went by without so much as a tickle in his throat. But they always, always came back.

 

\----

 

Once when he was home alone his heart just started skipping beats. Painful little lurches in his chest. His eyesight starting to fill with black spots before he managed to heal it sprawled on the library floor clutching a book on Haitian zombie rituals..

 

He’d stayed there a long time.

Knees pulled to his chest. Fingers wrapped tight around his phone, heart hammering flawlessly once again.

 

He watched the phones battery tick down to 25% before he convinced himself not to call for help. The bunker floor freezing beneath him. Every corner silent save for his harsh breathing.

 

\----

 

He’d started doing research as soon as the coughing started up again. He needed to keep track of things, learn his body’s warning signs so he could fix them before it got too terrible.

 

“Research,” was an easy excuse when anybody got curious about why he was reading so many medical books. “I want to be able to help more with first aid on hunts…”

 

He was able now to match his symptoms with what was happening in his body. He knew the difference between what liver and kidney and early heart failure felt like now.

 

Sam would be impressed he thought sardonically.

 

He detached himself from the urge to curl up in a ball, clutch his head, and scream bloody murder the thought brought.

 

\---

 

But he wouldn’t tell them. He couldn’t stand the thought.

 

The look of worry on Sam’s face. Sadness and anxiousness from Castiel that he would lose him again..

 

And worst of all stress and caution from Dean when he figured out he was still slowly burning off his soul.

 

No, they didn’t need that. There wouldn’t be a point, what would it change? Jack would still be sick without his grace, he’d still have to burn off more and more of himself to stay alive all because he was stupid enough to get close to Lucifer despite his family’s continual warnings.

 

\----

 

It had been easier when he’s been dying, he realized morously. Then there had been an end in sight, a goal, all he had to do was hold on, be brave for just a few more weeks a few more days gather a few more happy memories...

 

_**“You weren’t constantly wondering if your soul will go before your grace returns…”** _

 

He pushed away the thought with a forceful swallow of the knot in his chest.

 

_****“You’d still have your grace and your family if you’d just killed Michael when you’d had the chance… Just help or stay out of the way…”** ** _

 

 

It came back to that every time Castiel worriedly chastised him about burning off his soul.

 

**_“I can’t stop…!”_ **

 

 

He’d wanted to yell in frustration. Fighting or sitting safe in the bunker his soul was burning to keep him breathing. He didn’t really see the difference at least when he healed Cas or killed monsters he was doing something.

 

_**“If they knew… they wouldn’t even let you help them, they wouldn’t risk it … You’re dead weight…”** _

 

He tried to ignore the threat, hated himself for the faint obstinate resentment that he felt whenever his father brought up his soul.

 

**_“You’re going to die because of me, for me. So how can you get angry when I risk myself doing something good?”_ **

 

 

He knew that was wrong. He knew that sacrifice was why he needed to be okay, needed to be whole when Castiel… when Cas…

 

He shouldn’t waste his soul… lose himself… but there was no avoiding it so why be so careful…

 

He was screwed either way.

 

**_“A century is a long time to wait for grace, chances are there was no saving his soul in the first place…”_ **

 

It was all a complicated mess that made his head swim when he focused on it too hard.

 

Maybe if he was lost, Castiel would live a little longer.

 

_****“If I was more careful Castiel… Would that make you happy?”** ** _

 

 

\----

 

When his body got worse he could always retreat too his room too “study”.

 

Days like today when remaining upright for longer than twenty minutes felt like a challenge. Exertion aggravating the returning ache in his chest.

 

He’d save the healing for when he could actually make a difference, the fairly rare days when they let him go on hunts or there was a break in the case. He needed to be ready to help.

 

\----

 

He’d spread three books on nomadic vampires and their migration routes across his bed desperate to contribute something. He searched over maps and recent information gathered by the apocalypse hunters looking for anything that didn’t make sense, anything that could help them figure out what Michael was up too with his monsters.

 

But it all just jumbled and swam together in his mind out of reach, frustratingly beyond anything Sam or Cas had taught him. Meanwhile the dull ache in his head and tightness in his chest that told him he wasn’t getting quite enough oxygen was not all helping.

 

He let out a frustrated groan slapping the book in front of him shut then sucked in air to suppress the hacking cough that the gutteral noise forced to the surface.

 

It didn’t work.

 

The resulting coughing fit left him gasping and chest tight, eyes swimming with the loss of air and a metallic taste in the back of his mouth.

 

Blood, again, of course.

 

It should bother him more that he was holding bits of his body together with safety pins and ducktape but all he could feel was distant anxiety. Wishing he could have lasted a few more days before fixing this.

 

Not even the soothing warmth of the of his ragged lungs healing over could hide the deeper cold burn and imaginary smell of ozone that was a sliver of soul burning away…

 

He couldn’t let it mean anything. So instead he breathed deeply, took a sip of the water on his nightstand, and opened back up the vampire book.

 

\---

 

“Jack?”

 

The worried Sam tone of the Sam voice and the knock on the door quickly pulled him back to reality.

 

“C-come in..” He muttered a little sheepishly not looking up. He didn’t have to see the look of worry on Sam’s face for it to make his stomach hurt.

 

“Everything okay in here?”

 

“Making sure I’m not dying?” It came out harsher than Jack meant it.

 

**_“I’m sorry Sam, it’s not your fault.”_ **

 

Sam was silent.

 

Jack finally looked up face burning, “I’m fine I just… choked on my water, it went down wrong.”

 

He smiled brightly, “I’m fine now…”

 

Jack was a terrible liar when he actually attempted to convince anyone of anything. Sam was still looking at him teetering unsure in the doorway..

 

_**“You’re still pretty good at lying if you keep your mouth shut…”** _

 

 

Sam’s brows furrowed deeper as he looked around the room, “You sure.”

 

**_“My back’s been hurting I don’t if I’m tired from training or if my kidneys are failing for the third time…”_ **

 

 

Jack spared a glance at his water glass worried bloody backwash had turned it pink again. It was fine.

 

“I’m fine. Just… frustrated,” he says truthfully.

 

**_“I fix one thing and something else dies, over and over and over…”_ **

 

Sam face from worry to sad understanding stepping closer eyes dropping from Jack’s face too the books, “What are you working on?”

 

Jack huffed again, “nothing apparently…”

 

_**“I’m too stupid to figure it out…”** _

 

“I thought if we knew more about how monsters usually act, it would be easier to figure out if they’re acting weird, like Michael weird…”

 

Sam surprised him by giving an impressed little huff.

 

“So you’re looking at how vampires move across the country… that’s really clever Jack.”

 

“Would be, if I could figure out how to do literally any of... that.” Jack muttered slapping one of the books shut again.

 

His hands were still shaking where he clutched the cover, even after he’d kept his lungs from falling apart, even though he’d thought his brain had moved on.

 

Sam closes the bedroom door behind him. “Want some help?”

 

Jack’s heart leapt at the idea.

 

**_“Please… I don’t want to be alone.”_ **

 

“It’s probably not going to work, two of the books… they just talk about why vampires move around and not how. The other is records but it’s really old I looked them up and, some of the towns aren’t even real anymore..”

 

“We could still try…”

 

_**“I looked it up I think my liver’s failing this time… Is my skin going yellow enough for you to tell?"** _

 

Either way it didn’t sound like a bright idea to hang out for long...

 

Jack opened his mouth to say no, but froze.

 

Sam’s was just looked at him looking a little unsure but open, honestly curious and interested in his plan. Proud of him.

 

_**“Congrats on being mildly useful for once.”** _

 

It nearly broke Jack’s resolve, parts inside him he kept pushing down cried out to spill everything, to sink into someone stronger and have them fix everything.

 

**_“No one can help you…”_ **

 

He pushed Jack back deep down.

 

“Maybe tomorrow? I’m tired I didn’t sleep much last night…”

 

**_“I couldn’t fall asleep because what if my heart starts to fail and I’m not there to fix it…”_ **

 

“It’s getting late, I should sleep…”

 

**_"I’m scared…”_ **

**_"I hate this…”_ **

 

All of Jack was shaking now, he couldn’t look Sam in the eye.

 

_**"I don't want to die..."** _

 

And then Sam was hugging him.

 

“We’re going to figure this out. We always do.”

 

_**“You can’t fix this.”** _

_**“Please stay…”** _

 

Jack just nodded swallowing back tears.

 

“Y-yeah… sure…”

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this a second birthday fic for Jack. I have a lot of feelings about the boy.


End file.
